I Put A Spell On Me
by reflecting
Summary: A spell goes wrong and Stiles ends up as she really shouldn't be. Short Sterek ficlet.


**Relationship**: Always-a-girl!Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale

**Tags:** AU - Gender Changes, AU - Canon Divergence, Romance, Magic!Stiles, Established Relationship

**A/N: **Wrote all this on my iPod so sorry for weird formatting and stuff, I went over it but there might still errors. Anyway, I was going to finish this but lost my inspiration. It's now a ficlet rather than a whole story. Hope you'll enjoy!

* * *

**o-oOo-o**

**I Put A Spell On Me**

**o-oOo-o**

Stiles blinks, trying to clear her eyesight from the sparkly puff of smoke which surrounds her, and she's coughing slightly as it tickles her throat. The boom of the spell's completion still echoes in her ears, which opps, was not what she'd been going for. Neither was the smoke. It was supposed to be just a flash of light, just a simple tingling feeling the book said. Shock was slowly morphing into anxious worry, because while she certainly felt tingles, her whole body practically buzzes with her magic. Fuck, what the hell had the spell ended up doing?

As if on cue upon this realized fear, the door slams open to reveal a very concerned, if extremely pissed off, boyfriend.

"Stiles!", Derek snaps, trying to wave away the smoke to clear his line of vision as he moves inside. Stiles turns to face him, blinking. Things feels…strange. Like…huh. She's taller. Well, okay, the spell was to adjust her physical appearance, that's true. Maybe not to that extent, but…okay so far. Explains perhaps why her clothes are so ill-fitting. But…no, urgh, she's really uncomfortable.

"Stiles, are you okay?!", Derek growls as he pushes up into her personal space and grabs her arms, running his hands over her to feel for any injuries. He gets as far as putting his hands on her biceps before he freezes, blinking and narrowing his eyes at her. "What…?"

He takes a step back and looks her up and down, an expression of horror dawning on his face. "What the fuck did you do?", he…yeah, squeaks. Really no other way to describe it.

"Um," she speaks, startled at her own voice. What? "I…I don't know?"

Derek meets her gaze with disbelief, placing a hand on her chest. Hey! "Stiles…you're…you're a guy."

Blinking, Stiles looks down at her chest and…there's Derek's hand. And her top. And not…not her boobs. _Where the fuck are her boobs_. "OH MY GOD!", she came to a sudden realization, sticking her hand up her skirt. "I HAVE A PENIS. DEREK."

Derek looks pained, grimacing, before shaking his head and taking her head in his hands. Huh. They're like, the same height now. "Stiles. Are you okay? Apart from…well, the obvious. Are you hurt?"

Shaking her head, Stiles gulps, trying to stave off the impressive freak-out she's working on. That might possibly be a bit easier done than it should be, because her life does nothing if not constantly throwing her curveballs. Besides, she reasons, she's gone at the spell with the intention of actually changing her physical appearance. So, this would just be a success then. Apart from the fact it had just supposed to have been an illusion rather than an actual physical change. And it had most certainly not involved biology to this extent. Fuck.

"I…I might have to talk to Deaton," Stiles says after a few moments of Derek fussing over her new form, his impressive brows furrowed in worry and looking slightly manic about it. She catches his wandering hands and meets his glare. "Wanna come with?" Because God knows he won't leave her alone.

"Yes, come on," he grumbles in reply, taking her hand and guiding her outside. "We're fixing this."

"What's the matter, boo," she grins, tagging along. "Am I not pretty anymore?"

He wraps an arm around her waist (wow that feels really weird, everything feels weird, she should probably get a change of clothes before they go) and growls. "It's not about that. You fucked up a spell, this could be harmful, Stiles. Stop trying to make it into a joke, goddamnit."

She winces at the worry and frustration in his voice, mentally wishing for the powers that be to lend her werewolf just a little bit more patience to deal with her. "Sorry, babe," she says, sighing. "I'm just…this is just really fucking typical. We can never just catch a break, huh?"

Snorting, Derek nudges her into their room, putting her on their bed. "I'll lend you some clothes, then we're going straight to Deaton, and you will promise once again to never do any magical experimentations without a second opinion, okay?"

She nods, biting her lips and trying not to squirm. There are missing body parts and just…other parts. It's freaky as hell. Derek tosses her one of his shirts, a pair of boxer briefs, an old pair of jeans she hasn't seen in ages, and socks. Grimacing, she undresses, ignoring the ripping of her top (her shoulders has destroyed it) and trying not to think about the weird feeling of taking off her bra (such a relief, it was way too tight, but where the fuck are the boobies seriously). The skirt has already slipped down on her much narrower hips and is easy to slip out of but the panties are another matter.

"This is really, really weird," Stiles observes, looking up to me et Derek's eyes. They're flashing red, taking her in, and she squirms. "Still pretty then?"

Derek rolls his eyes as she steps out of her panties, sighing at finally being out of the tight clothes. She gladly pulls on the ones Derek had offered, never saying no to a chance to drown in his scent. Plus his shirts are always so fucking soft , it's ridiculous. When she's ready, Derek takes her hand again and she barely has time to snatch up her phone and wallet on their way out of the apartment.

Making their way down the stairs, Stiles brightens up. "Hey, you think our neighbors will think you're having a hot steamy affair with a dude behind my back? Possibly my long lost evil, home-wrecking twin bro?"

"Shut up Stiles," Derek sighs, lips twitching. She totally saw that. Hah!

"We're totally having sex."

That makes him stumble down the last few steps, choking. Stiles rolls her eyes.

"Shut up, I know you're bi. Don't even front."

Derek blushes and tugs her outside, growling. "You're going to be the death of me."

**oOo**

"So," Sties begins as soon as they get home again. "Now that we've established that I'm not going to die or have any permanent damage, and that the spell will wear off in like three to four days, there are some things I want to do."

Derek sighs. "You've already made a list, haven't you."

"You know me so well, babe," Stiles confirms, patting his cheek before giving him a quick peck on his lips. "First, I totally want sex. Any sex you're comfortable with, Dear-Bear, but a blowjob would be awesome. Also, the prostate."

"We can do that," Derek grins, slipping his arms around her waist. Wow, this height thing was awesome.

"Then," she continues, winding her arms around his neck because cuddles. "I want to go into town and see how people treat me as a guy. Maybe go out clubbing tomorrow."

Derek shrugs. "Whatever you feel like, baby. I'm coming along though," he growls the last, leaning in to nose at her cheek. "You're a very pretty boy."

"No complaints here," she breathes, tilting her head to the side to allow him to bury into her neck. Mmm, yes.

"Anything else?", he mumbles, fitting his lips over the tendon down her neck and sucking gently.

"Uhh," temporary brain-malfunction, "That's it for now. Bedroom?"

"Mmm."

**oOo**


End file.
